


Swapped

by madnessmuse



Category: COD zombies, Call of Duty (Video Games), nazi zombies
Genre: Explicit Language, Gen, Kino Der Toten, don't know really where i'm going with this, just wanted an excuse to write the ultimis crew being weirded out by an actual SANE richtofen, mostly gonna be focused on origins!richtofen with the ultimis crew, not really gonna be black ops 3 compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-04-08 09:45:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14102706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madnessmuse/pseuds/madnessmuse
Summary: After the teleporter malfunctions at Kino, One dimensions' Edward Richtofen gets swapped for another and now the ultimis crew must assist in returning the Primis Richtofen to his rightful dimension.





	1. Chapter 1

The day past like the weeks had before it. The four soldiers, stuck in the shadowy German theater known as Kino Der Toten, fought for their lives against an army of undead. Eventually the sun finally set, and the undead appeared less numerous as time passed. None of them were quite sure why this was the case, happy to just accept a break from the violence.

"Damn, they fought hard that time. Almost put up a challenge," Dempsey smirked, slinging his galil onto his back.

Takeo paused his actions, turning to acknowledge the loudmouth american. He and the russian were busy piling up the corpses to burn. A few weeks ago, they would have simply thrown the bodies out of the theatre and onto the empty street. But the zombies had become too numerous. It was quicker to simply burn them then to throw the bodies out individually.

"Indeed. Perhaps we may need to rethink our strategy to keep the demons at bay." With not another word, he returned to his duties.

The marine grunted in response. He knew from experience that pressing for a more clear response from the quiet man would prove pointless.

Tak would speak when he felt like he needed to, and that was that.

Speaking of killing zombies, he did need to upgrade his weapon, Tank realised. A few hours ago, he took a gamble with the box and won, earning himself the kickass Thunder Gun. The wonder weapon was such a blast on its own that he must have forgotten to upgrade it.

"Heh, no time like the present," he muttered, making his way to the teleporter.

Stepping into the theater, his eyes happened to catch those belonging to the fourth member of their team, the sadistic German who brought them here - Dr. Edward Richtofen. Acidic green eyes bored into his, and Tank realised that the Nazi was already in the teleporter, hand hovering over a button.

Tank glared, feeling annoyance bubble up in the pit of his stomach. Of course the German would appear at the most unfortunate of times.

"Hey wait the fuck up doc!" Demspey broke out into a jog to reach the teleporter before -

"Sorry American, looks like you are too late. Tear."

And with childish glee, Richtofen slammed his hand against the button, laughing maniacally before suddenly disappearing from view.

"You fucker-" Dempsey started, before abruptly cutting himself off.

The teleporter groaned in protest of the jump, smoke poring out of the inside of the machine.

As the smoke cleared, the marine could just make out a body sprawled out inside the teleporter, seemingly unconscious.

The marine frowned. In the dozens of times they had used the device, not once had it malfunctioned in anyway. And while he had no idea on the specifics, even he knew that a teleporter shorting out mid jump spelt bad fucking news.

He approached cautiously, keeping one hand on his spare pistol just in case.

"Doc? The fuck just happened?"

As he moved closer to the prone body, his eyes picked apart the shocking differences in appearence. His clothes had changed - instead of a Nazi uniform, the man wore a white dress shirt and vest.

Tank crouched by the body, eyes moving up to examine the others' face, noticing more peculiar changes. The man was clearly a good decade or two younger than Richtofen. He also sported a small mustache and his skin didn't have that sickly pale shade that Richtofen usually sported.

Yet, despite these changes, Dempsey knew without a doubt that this was Richtofen. The face itself was still the German's after all, just younger.

Tank reached out and shook the unconscious man's shoulder.

"Richtofen?"

No response.

After several more failed attempts, Tank felt his patience come to an end. He wanted answers, dammit!

With a growl, he hoisted the younger Richtofen's face off of the teleporter pad and delivered a harsh slap across the man's sharp cheakbones.

"Wake the fuck up Kraut!"

And wake up the German did. Richtofen gasped, eyes flying open, wide with shock and, to Dempsey's curiosity, slight fear.

"D- Dempsey?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richtofen meets and has a 'friendly' chat with ultimis Dempsey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments on the first chapter. I'll try and update at least weekly. Feel free to comment any constructive criticisms or ideas! :)

"So you remember my name? Even managed to pronounce it right too! Great work there doc, you get a gold star," Dempsey mockingly sneered, sarcasticaly patting Richtofen on the shoulder.

The German in question stared rather blankly up at him, seemingly lost in thought. Dempsey noted that there was a surprising amount of rationality in those eyes, not clouded by the kraut's usual madness.

Suddenly the doctor climbed to his feet, putting some distance between the pair. He looked around, fear slowly giving way to scientific curiosity, amazement at his predicament.

"It seems I am no longer in France - nor 1918." Richtofen nodded towards the much newer gun and grenades attached to dempsey's belt.

"1918? Hell no, you're decades out. The doc - er, that being older you- teleported us to some German theatre a few weeks ago. Apparently, we're now stuck in 1963."

"Time travel," Richtofen murmured in wonder.

"Some comic book shit like that."

The scientist frowned at the term. "All things that seem fictional, will oneday be made possible and explained through science, american."

Dempsey really couldn't care less.

"Yeah, whatever doc. What I would really like you to explain is what the fuck just happened!" The marine growled, taking a menacing step forward.

The doctor winced at the outburst, the anger doing nothing to help calm his fraught nerves.

"That is what I would like to find out as well, my simple american friend. Believe it or not, you and I were just talking not five minutes ago. In France."

Dempsey blinked in confusion. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Richtofen pursed his lips, readying himself for the shouting his next sentence was almost guaranteed to set off.

"Dempsey, this may be hard for you to take in but... I believe I may have not just been transported through time... but to a different dimension entirely."

"What?!"

Cringing, the doctor lifted a hand to his aching head. It very well seemed like this reality's Tank Dempsey had an even more volatile temper than his own. Joy. 

The clearly unstable american approached him and he observed the way Dempsey's face twisted in wild fury. Teeth snapped together in a snarl like those of a rabbid dog. The marines fists were tightly clenched, and for a moment Richtofen honestly thought the american was going to strangle the life out of him.

His own bloodied hands trembled in fear.

A large, dirty paw grabbed the front of his vest, pulling him forward and Richtofen flinched, twisting his head away.

Seconds passed and with no feeling of sudden pain, the German tentatively cracked an eye open, meeting a shit-eating grin.

"Wow, you were a real pussy before ya took a train to crazy town, weren't you doc?" The marines blue eyes glinted in amusement.

The scientist heaved out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. A feeling of shame needled its way down Richtofen's spine at showing such obvious weakness, which was slowly replaced with vexation. 

It had been a long, traumatic day and Edward felt his own considerable temper begin to fray around the edges.

"Well," The German snapped, "Considering I was forced to remove my best friend's brain from his body, was almost crushed to death, several times I might add, by giant mechanized robots and have been struggling to combat an army of undead for hours, I believe I have every right to be rattled!"

The marine released him after that stress-induced outburst, reluctantly acknowledging that he had a point.

"Sounds to me like you've had one hell of a shit day. If you're waiting for me to tell you it's all gonna be sunshine and rainbows from here on out though, you've got another thing coming. Thing is," Dempsey informed, "we've got ourselves a little freakbag problem too. Seems to me wherever we go, those pussbuckets aren't far behind. Ol' Dicktofen mentioned something about a crazy little girl controlling them."

Richtofen's eyes widened in realisation.

"Samantha?"

"Ding ding ding! You got it first try! Heh, seems to me like our realities are pretty similar. Same shit, different setting, am I right?" 

Dempsey sat on the edge of the stage and pulled out a cigar. It'd been a while since he'd indulged. 

To him, what was most important was the small pleasures in life. Like shooting shit up, drinking and bangin' smoking hot chicks. Especially that last one, Tank thought with a hungry grin. 

All this crap about alternate realities just gave him a headache.

He could feel the kraut's questioning eyes on him, and with reluctance, Tank pulled himself from his thoughts. He turned around to acknowledge the German.

"Listen, I know jackshit about this reality hopping, multiverse level bullshit. But what I do know is if you're gonna be here, you're going to have to pull your own weight around here. As in, grab a gun and get ready to seperate some zombie heads from their bodies. Me and the other guys will help you out where we can, but we ain't your fucking babysitters! Get the drill?"

The doctor nodded his understanding, ready to go and search for a firearm. A strange thought made him stop midstep, however, and he turned to make eye contact with the american.

"The... 'other guys'. They would not happen to be named... Nikolai Belinski and Takeo Masaki, would they?"

The marine grinned, taking a long drag from his cigar.

"Ha, guess i'm right. Same shit, different setting. You better go introduce yourself to your... 'new' teammates, kraut. Just don't touch the commie's vodka, and you should be fine. Probably," Dempsey casually shrugged.

The marine chuckled to himself as Richtofen took his advice and hesitantly left the stage.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Origins Richtofen meets the rest of ultimis. A new problem presents itself.

Stepping out of the theatre, Edward couldn't help but stare at the decrepit environment. Blood, a dark brown colour, coated the tattered walls and flooring. Doors and windows were smashed in and looking up, he could see that wooden panels had been used to construct hastily-made barriers against the untoten. He frowned, questioning the strength of the boards.

He knew from experience that such methods quickly grew ineffective.

Pushing the thought away, he turned his attention to the most interesting object in the room, a pad connected to the teleporter by a thick metal wire that ran between the two rooms. Edward knelt down, experimentally tapping the strong glass shielding. Nothing exciting happened.

Disappointed, the scientist leaned back on his heels, eyeing with fascination the swirling portal beneath him. The colours held an almost... hypnotic quality. He could almost feel the energy radiating below.

The click of a loaded gun broke the spell.

"Don't. Move," A harsh, low voice commanded, the Japanese accent clear.

The German sucked in a breath, frowing at his mistake. How careless he had been, allowing himself to be so easily distracted. Nevertheless, he realised, now was the optimal time to turn a possible enemy into an ally.

"Hello, again, Masaki." Richtofen kept his tone light, respectful.

Takeo's hazel eyes narrowed in suspision, hand clenched around his pistol. When no danger seemed immediate, the imperial took a step backwards, eyes never straying from the stranger.

"Stand. Slowly," he instructed, gesturing with his firearm.

Richtofen did so without argument, keeping his hands visible at all times. Awkwardly, he turned to face this other reality's Takeo Masaki, stepping off of the teleporter pad. He very much hoped the man was a lot less volatile than the American.

As expected, Takeo appeared surprised at his familiar appearance.

"Who or what are you?" Masaki glared, suspision quickly becoming aggression.

When Richtofen tried to answer, he was interrupted.

"Takeo where have you run off too!? Lazy fascists, always finding excuse not to work," an easily-recognizable voice grumbled.

Richtofen rose an eyebrow at the slurred words.

Soon, the source of the noise, Nikolai Belinski, half-stumbled into the room, one hand clutched around a mostly empty vodka bottle while the other grasped onto the wall for support.

"Ey, think i'm sobering up. Fuck. Hey Richtofen," the Russian called out, approaching them casually and completely ignoring the tension in the room. "I need more vodka!"

Takeo gritted his teeth in annoyance, lowering his pistol slightly. "Do you not notice something different about our German 'comrade', drunk?"

The russian squinted his eyes, at first confused. Suddenly he grinned. "Ah, I see it now. Richtofen grew mustache!"

The Russian frowned, displeased. "It looks shit."

Richtofen glared, self-consciously stroking his mustache.

Takeo sighed at his rival's stupidity. 

"That is not the only difference, Russian. It appears the doctor has been changed, his appearance altered somehow. I fear that this younger Richtofen may be a doppelganger, sent by the demons to trick us," the Japanese man snarled.

The German stepped forward, acknowledging that this was his chance to clear up the misconception.

Richtofen opened his mouth to speak... but was once again interrupted.

"He ain't no spy." Tank Dempsey strode towards them, eyes focused on the pistol Takeo had yet to drop.

Richtofen was... surprised, to say the least that it was the American, of all people, that was defending him. Nevertheless, he was grateful.

Takeo turned to face the marine, letting his guard down slightly. Richtofen relaxed as the pistol was finally pointed away from him.

Masaki was still suspisious however.

"How do you know of this, American?"

"Well, for starters I saw Richtofen - y'know the craggy, nazi one - use the teleporter not long ago. The fucker saw me running towards it and activated it before I could reach it. Well that, quite literally, blew up in his face, 'cos it malfunctioned."

Nikolai and Takeo stared at the American, waiting for him to continue.

"So that's when he," the marine pointed to Richtofen, "got here. Seems the teleporter got confused after it crapped itself and picked up him instead of the old Richtofen."

"Indeed. Danke for explaining, Dempsey." The German smiled, feeling a newfound confidence now that the misconception had been, mostly, dealt with.

Nikolai scratched his beard, clearly confused. "So this is Richtofen from past?"

Edward shook his head. "Nein, not quite Russian. I am, in fact, from a different reality entirely. One that seems to have much in common to your own. An hour ago, you see, I was in 1918, France. There was an... outbreak of sorts, untoten had risen and infected the soldiers that were stationed at the site," he explained, grimacing at the horrors still fresh in his mind.

"Anyway, I was found by three soldiers of different nations. They were originally sent to capture me, but due to the dire circumstances, we unified in an attempt to survive the incoming hoards. Those soldiers were alternate dimension versions of yourselves."

Takeo took in the explanation, looking thoughtful. Nikolai looked even more confused.

"So there are other 'me's'? Shit, hope that doesn't mean there's other fourth wife running around. She's money stealing bitch," Nikolai hissed, downing the last of his bottle at the thought.

Dempsey snorted.

Edward looked exasperated, both at the man's alcohol depency as well as his obvious lack of intelligence. "... worry not, soviet. The likeliness of running into your ex-wives' alternate is one in, well a very, very high number indeed."

"Da, good. But I still need vodka," the russian whined, forlonly staring at the now empty bottle.

Idiots were easy to manipulate, Richtofen mused. Now could be his chance to bargain for a weapon. And one all ready upgraded...

The German smirked, smoothly gliding forward to examine the empty bottle more closely. "Say Nikolai, I may be able to help with your little vodka problem, if you were willing to give me a weapon in return," Richtofen flashed a seemingly friendly smile, nodding towards the strangely patterned assault rifle strapped to the drunks' back.

The marine took note at the German's sudden change in mood, at the cunning in the doctor's eyes. The kraut was still as intelligent as he counterpart, Dempsey realised. The only major factor was this Richtofen didn't have all that Crazy holding him back. Tank frowned, observing the scientist. Something told him this Richtofen wasn't as harmless as he seemed. He certainly was no fool, at least. 

From the looks of it, Takeo had noticed that too.

The soviet appeared skeptical. "Oh really. And do you happen to have a few bottles on you?"

"Well no," Edward conceded, "but I would be willing to go out and search for you. I'm sure there must be a store around here somewhere. Besides, as I am currently stuck here, I will need a firearm anyway, both to defend meinself as well as to aid in the killing of the untoten."

Nikolai weighed his options, ultimately growling in frustration. The promise of more vodka was just too tempting. "Here," the soviet spat, chucking the rifle into the German's eager arms. "take weapon. But if you break deal, I will take rifle back by force!"

Richtofen nodded, only half-listening to the soviets' ranting. He smirked, examining the fine craftmenship. Such firepower...!

A hand landing on his shoulder startled the man out of his thoughts, and his eyes looked up to meet the American's.

"Hey you better stick to that deal Richtofen. Don't know why, but the Russian's useless when sober. Couldn't shoot a freaksack if it was fucking 3 feet away from him," Dempsey said, tone all too serious.

"Do not worry, I will aquire the vodka. Somehow," Richtofen muttered the last word under his breath.

"I have a concern, German," Takeo suddenly spoke, surprising all of them. 

Edward turned his attention to Masaki. He had almost forgotten about the quiet man who had only been threatening him mere minutes ago.

"You say you were- teleported here," the japanese warrior questioned.

The German nodded.

"Then where has this reality's Edward Richtofen been transported to? Is his soul still within this dimension?"

Dempsey's eyes widened at the question. "Fuck, doc if you were moved to this dimension..."

"... Then my counterpart may have been transported to my own dimension, where I came from - France, 1918!" Richtofen gasped, cursing himself for not thinking of that sooner. 

"Shit, hope our counterparts can deal with one schizophrenic, perverted sadist. Hell, they're free to keep him!" The marine barked out a rough laugh.

Shaking his head from side to side, the German began pacing, ignoring his newfound allies. The immeasurable damage that could be done to this reality was bad enough, but now two could be affected? Richtofen sighed, stressed. It seems he must work even harder to return to his home dimension, lest the damage become permanent.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... yeah. This took longer than I thought it would haha. Hopefully i'll be able to update sooner for future chapters, if I can find enough time and motivation when I am off work. For now though, lets see what's going on with the primis crew.

Northern France, 1918

Three battle-hardened soldiers stared in shock at the empty space before them, previously occupied by the scientist they had each been tasked to collect for their countries.

The Russian was the first to act, moving forward and prodding the mud, as if he thought Richtofen was somehow hidden beneath it.

"Well what in Lenin's name do we do now then?! Where did German disappear to?" Nikolai looked to his two dumbfounded allies.

"No idea, but he seemed surprised at that strange light. I don't think this was a part of Richtofen's plan," Dempsey surmised, scratching his chin in thought. 

The marine was of something of a loss now. The girl still needed saving, and without Richtofen around to explain what the hell was going on, their task had been made a whole lot harder. The German may have been a crap shot, but he had a good head on his shoulders at least.

Takeo growled, frustrated at losing what would have been a vital asset to Japan's military. Turning around, he found the perfect target to take out his anger on. He took aim at one of the undead stumbling towards them in the distance. With expert precision, the shot met its target, the corpse falling face first into the muddy trench.

"Nice shot," Dempsey muttered, distracted. 

The Russian stepped back, face severe. "You think German will return, capitalist?"

"Dunno, but whenever somethin' weird happens, it's usually connected to these 'steps' we've been completing."

"But the child has not spoken," Takeo argued.

"That's true."

After a few minutes of waiting to see if Richtofen would reappear, they were all growing frustrated. Takeo busied himself by picking off stray zombies that were unfortunate enough to step too close for comfort, while Nikolai and Dempsey argued about where to go from there. Finally, Nikolai, belligerent as ever, was just about to move on when the bright light returned, striking the very same spot. A faded groaning sound accompanied it, like that of a malfunctioning machine.

"Shit. My eyes!" Nikolai complained, stumbling away.

Dempsey and Takeo also flinched away from the source, the light blinding in its intensity. 

The sudden sound of a high pitched scream from above startled the soldiers.

Adjusting their eyes to the brightness, the soldiers watched as an older man in a unfamiliar military get-up plummeted into the muddy surface, landing in a undignified heap with a pained moan.

There was an awkward silence.

"Alright, who the fuck is that," Nikolai growled, prowling closer to the prone body and nudging it with one muddy boot.

The dazed man below let out a quiet giggle, playfully pushing the offending boot away. 

"Ack - stop," he laughed, "that tickles my side."

In response, the irritated Russian kicked the strange man in the ribs, hard. Nikolai felt a small pang of satisfaction as the man let out a pained grunt.

All traces of amusement left Richtofen's face in an instant, mood abruptly souring. He glared upwards, sneering at the Russian in sudden loathing. 

"I said STOP," he raged, teeth snapping wildly together. With surprising agility, Richtofen jumped to his feet, violently shoving the much heavier Russian away from him. His posture was tense, and the mad gleam in his eyes promised violence.

Subtly, Takeo reloaded his rifle. Whilst killing a healthy, living human being would be... unfortunate, this newcomer could prove to be troublesome. Perhaps even a danger.

Dempsey, noticing the situation was quickly deteriorating, moved to intervene, placing a steadying hand on Belinski's shoulder to stop the steady the Russian. He stepped forward to confront the stranger.

"Hey, what the hell's your problem!?"

The doctor ignored Dempsey completely, suddenly disinterested in the others. He took in his surroundings with almost childlike curiosity. His green eyes were wide, intrigued at the new environment he had found himself in. An excited gasp escaped him as he noticed one of the thousand foot robots slowly moving towards the group with giant thudding steps.

"A giant robot! I WANT ONE," he screamed, gleefully hopping up and down, laughing. His lips curled in an unsettlingly wide grin.

Takeo raised an unimpressed eyebrow at the others' manic behaviour. The man either did not realise how dishonourable his own behaviour was, or utterly didn't care. His suspicions were leaning towards the latter.

The Russian, pride damaged, just scowled, seething with rage.

Finally, Tank had had enough, patience reaching its end. He grabbed the distracted madman, shoving him against a stone wall with force. At this distance, he could easily make out the man's face, completely unobscured by the hat.

Dempsey let out a small gasp, mind going blank at the strangers' uncanny resemblence to their German teammate.

Richtofen, not missing a beat, grinned maliciously up at him. His eyes shone with hatred, muddled with thinly veiled confusion.

"Hello Dempsey," he spat.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a sudden zombie break in. Edward continues to be fairly useless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *appears a month late with starbucks* sorry for the wait, life's been pretty hectic.

The afternoon had been passing by surprisingly peacefully, all things considered. With the untoten nowhere to be seen, Edward had found himself in an alley, idly taking potshots at empty food canisters; a half-hearted attempt to familarise himself with his new firearm. Eyes narrowed, he lifted the barrel of the weapon up, weapon trained on a particularly small can in the distance.

Sudden, uncontrolled screams and the sound of splintering wood broke his concentration.

Richtofen whirled around, weapon ready. One zombie after the next was mindlessly clambering over the makeshift wooden barrier- the only thing between them and Richtofen. 

Cursing his bad luck, Edward opened fire, bullets occasionally meeting flesh. In response, the zombies angrily howled, tearing down the last remnants of the barrier. Their weakened muscles and fresh wounds did little to impede their speed or strength. Within a minute, the cramped alleyway was overrun with undead, and Richtofen, legs quivering and heart racing, blindly fumbled for his stach of ever-decreasing bullets, clumsily reloading his firearm. 

Only when one clawed hand swiped at him did it finally dawn on Richtofen that he needed to run. 

-  
Meanwhile, the three super soldier experiments were struggling in the theatre, ammo quickly running dry. 

None of them saw it coming. Just when everything had settled down for two seconds, out came a screaming horde of fleshsacks, courtesy of that creepy little girl in the sky.

Really this shouldn't have been surprise, but that German kid at least had the decency in the past to give them a little warning.  
'It's her idea of fair play', Richtofen had once told them with a dry grin. It had been on one of the quieter days when they were back in Der Riese, the marine remembered.

Tank grimaced at the thought of the Nazi, brow furrowing in anger. The bastard had never told them much about anything of importance, only giving scraps of information, seemingly on a whim. The casual dishonesty had never failed to piss him off, sometimes even more than the kraut's attitude.

A groan that sounded too close for comfort snapped the marine out of his thoughts. He immediately took aim, taking only a moment to adjust himself before pulling the trigger. A disheartening click met his ears.

"Goddammit," Tank cursed, slamming the butt of his weapon against the cranium of an approaching zombie. 

Unfortunately for the American, the commotion had given away his position. A zombie's head snapped towards him, rotten teeth bared threateningly. A horde mindlessly followed behind.

Dempsey grinned at the challenge, readying his thunder gun.

An unnatural blast of wind annihilated the approaching bodies, body parts splattering the walls, the floorboards and everything in between.

"Ha, direct hit!" Dempsey's voice rose in excitement. He patted the strange super weapon fondly. German and crazy-looking the weapon may be, but it sure packed one hell of a punch!

"Hey guys did you see that! I Just took down a whole conga line of 'em with one shot!" The American boasted, voice raised above the various bangs and whizzes of gunshots.

Nikolai jerked around, continuing to shoot at the incoming horde without aiming. Takeo, also covering the entrance, scowled.

"Haha, good one comrade! At this rate you'll be almost as good as killing as Nikolai. But only almost!" The Russian shouted across the room in response.

"That's funny comin' from a guy who couldn't shoot straight if his life depended on it," Tank snarked, readying his thunder gun.

"Hey, if you were as drunk as me, ha, I bet you couldn't even walk. Americans are weak like that. Can barely handle two, even one shot of vodka," Nikolai mocked.

Dempsey's eyes narrowed in offense at that, as he unleashed another blast of wind on an unsuspecting lone zombie. Nobody insulted Uncle Sam like that and got away with it.

"That's a load of crap. Fuckin' commie piece of-"

Richtofen sprinted into the room, a large group of the undead chasing after him.

"Ah, shit," Tank swore, swiveling his gun around. "Nice job bringing all the fleshsacks, Richtofen. Really earnin' your keep. Now everybody's sure to accept you into the team!"

With a casual pull of the trigger, most of the horde were blasted off their feet, the pressure enough to tear off limbs.

Richtofen was stunned at the level of destruction caused by a mere one shot. "Such raw power... who created this weapon?" He nodded towards the cannon in question.

"Some kraut or another. From what I've gathered, the Germans here had been building super weapons using element 115. Seems to me like everything went to shit shortly after that..."

"Experiments can easily go... awry when mishandled." The scientist picked his words carefully. He knew all too well the dangers posed when element 115 was involved.

Dempsey snorted. "'Awry' is putting it nicely. Personally, I'd go with 'fubar'." 

Tank swiftly reloaded his wonder weapon once more, blood lusted. The thrill of battle was always electrifying. 

Richtofen, for his part, made the probably wise decision to stay behind the American with the wonder weapon. He made an effort to finish off any off the still moving untoten that were blown to the floor. Whilst combat wasn't exactly his forte, it was accentual to his survival to appease his teammates.

Minutes trickled away in surprising ease, considering their earlier struggling. The stronger members of the undead were taken care of first, bodies ripped apart by gunfire, explosives or unnatural blasts of wind. After that, the group quickly made short work of any stragglers.

Takeo unsheathed his katana, a slight smirk on his face as he sliced up the last few remaining zombies that defiantally clung to 'life'.

Overall, it had been a fairly successful defense.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richtofen hates manual labour, but likes scheming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally could be bothered to update this. This chapters pretty short though. Obvious reference is obvious.

Combat was physically exhausting, mentally draining and overall, something to be avoided, Richtofen decided. His place was not in some filthy hole surrounded by armed idiots shooting at even bigger idiots. No. 

His place was in a lab. Edward could picture it now as he closed his eyes. Notes scattered around the area containing vitally important, if hastily written, instructions. The acidic smell in the air as chemicals swirled together. The composed, professional faces of his colleagues, diligently working their hardest to make the world a better place. 

Yes, that was where he was meant to be, needed to be.

Instead of - 

Familiar heavily accented voices interrupted his thoughts.

"Hey Rectalfun, thinkin' about your boyfriend? Quit daydreaming and actually help us lug these corpses, Kraut."

"Ha ha yes, there's still lots of corpses. Mostly from Nikolai, but you guys helped too. A little."

"Shut up Nikolai, we all saw the way I blew their guts out; I totally killed more!"

"You did not, capitalist!"

"Did too, commie!"

"Did, hic, not!"

"Be quiet, idiots. Ending the souless is no competition... but if it were, Takeo would be victor."

"You would not be, Jap!"

Instead of here. Edward sighed.

Zoning out once more, the childish bickering quietened. With unfeeling hands, Richtofen sluggishly dragged a corpse through the theatre, then the teleporter room, and finally deposited the unwanted weight untop of the other undead masses. Edward repeated this process several times.

Perhaps, Edward thought to himself, he should rethink his opinion on armed combat. As stressful as it was, fighting for his life against untoten that was vying for his blood, at least that kept him on his toes, thinking. Physical labour, on the other hand, was both taxing on his slightly out of shape body and, worst of all, boring.

Utterly mindnumbing.

Clearly, the most torturous state for an inquisitive genius like him to be in.

Looking back into the theatre, there wasn't that many bodies left to lug, was there? Surely, his clearly more physical capable teammates wouldn't mind if he were to sneak off early, would they? 

Richtofen stroked his chin, thinking it through. He was in a dilemma. He wanted, almost needed, to gain the approval of the others. Not doing so could endanger his life in the near future.

But he also really wanted to discover what it was that this dimensions' Edward Richtofen and Group 935 were keeping secret, what experiments were under lock and key, hidden away from prying eyes...

The few times he had tried to pry information out of his accentric allies had resulted in nothing but failure. 

Either all three were excellent liars or they truly knew next to nothing. Richtofen would bet it was the latter.

Dempsey was aggressive to the point of violence at times, but seemed to hold value in honesty and loyalty. 

Nikolai was far too stupid and absentminded to be able to lie well. Not to mention, the promise of alcohol would loosen his tongue.

Takeo would be the most likely culprit, having the capacity to decieve well... if it were not for the man's own suspicions. Admittedly, Richtofen knew little of the quiet swordsman - unlike the other two, Takeo was guarded, rarely revealing his internal thoughts and opinions. 

While Richtofen was sure the American and Russian held no valuable information, Masaki... he was unsure of.

Edward would have to be wary around him.

Well, there was no use just standing around, achieving nothing. His mind was already made up, just begging to be put to use on something worthy of the scientist's attention.

Walking away, he now had another dilemma. Where would he hide important documents? What's more, just how advanced is the hidden technology being developed by Group 935?

If this dimensions' Edward Richtofen has already discovered the key to time travel, who's to say finding a way to traverse to parallel universes is out of the question. Both bend the laws of physics as science understands it. Perhaps it's just a matter of bending the laws in different, but ultimately not dissimilar, ways.

He supposed only time would tell what answers awaited him, in this theatre of the damned.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For better or worse, the secrets of Group 935 start to be uncovered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When that botd ending hits you like a train. Thanks, Treyarch.

Saying Edward was frustrated was like saying Group 935's inventions were only slightly advanced compared to the average research group, a complete understatement. He'd torn through every book, every notepad he could get his hands on, but the answers he seeked still eluded him.

Absolutely nothing he'd read even pondered on parallel dimensional travel. 

That being said, he had uncovered plenty of curiousities. From detailed schematics on superweapons to plans to control the minds of the dead... this Maxis was certainly no less the genius than his own. Though, Richtofen reasoned, perhaps a tad bit more unstable, given the man's apparent perchance towards weaponizing the untoten. 

The amount of power one would have with an army of undead... the thought caused a shiver to run down the back of the scientist's spine. With excitement or dread, Edward wasn't sure.

Disappointed, Richtofen left the projector room. He wasn't sure what led him to this particular room. Perhaps it was because this was where the pack a punch machine was located. Edward had smiled fondly when he spotted it, recalling the time he and his coworkers had made a breakthrough in its' development back at the dig site. That had been a joyous day.

However, he had raised a disapproving eyebrow at the machine's... crude design. It looked almost like a toy of some sorts, instead of a technological masterpiece that had the potential to change the world. Ah well, it seemed what this Group 935 lacked in aesthetic taste, they more than made up for in intelligence.

Hmm, on to business at hand. Obviously the teleporter that transported him here was powered by element 115. There was no alternative to power such a magnificent inventon. Was it possible that the element had overloaded the teleporter? Richtofen supposed it was, but there was not enough evidence to fully convince him that this was the cause yet.

The doctor glared at an unremarkable blood splatter on the wall. His plan of finding the answers he needed through Group 935's notes had failed. 

He supposed, and this hurt to even consider, Edward supposed he could ask for help from his unconventional allies. Ugh, he really must be tired, resorting to asking for help on an intellectual matter from his clearly half-crazed teammates. The absurdity of it.

But, Richtofen realised, but this was of utmost importance. His presence in this universe was clearly a mistake, a mistake that had the potential to damage or even entirely destroy this dimension.

As painful as it was to admit it, Richtofen needed help.

Sighing, Edward reluctantly made his way to the theatre room. From what little time he had spent in this strange building, it seemed very likely atleast one of his teammates would be resting there.

Begrudgingly entering the large room, Richtofen's theory proved correct. The American was glaring at the outer covering of the teleporter. It seemed he wasn't the only one frustrated at the machine. Masaki crouched close by, sword mysteriously unholstered. 

The German, now curious, approached, catching the end of the conversation.

"-ckin' useless piece of dogshit, that's what it is, Tak. Never goddamn works when we need it to."

"The machine has proven to be... dishonorable. Perhaps we should look for a different method of transportation."

"You forget what decade we're in? It's our only chance at putting a stop to this shit and returning home. If we can't get it working again, we're fucked."

Takeo frowned, acknowledging the marine's point. "With the doctor gone, I am concerned that fixing the machine will not be possible."

Richtofen stepped forward, smiling. "Well gentlemen, you are in luck. You may have lost your dimensions' Richtofen, but I am an indisputable genius," Edward's tone turned smug. 

Dempsey scowled, folding his arms. " Well whoop de fuckin' doo. Roll out the red carpet Tak, the 'indisputable genius' is here to solve all our problems. What the fuck have you been up to for the last few hours?  
The doctor waved him off. "Relax, Dempsey. I have merely been scouting the area. "

"You forget about the zombies? The maggot addicts could be around any corner."

The scientist raised an eyebrow at the marines apparent concern. "I am more than capable of handling a few of the untoten by myself. You are beginning to sound like my mother, American."

Tank growled, affronted by the last remark. Leaning forward, the marine tone darkened. "You callin' me a girl, kraut?"

Richtofen hastily backed up a few steps, laughing nervously. He wouldn't put it past the marine to take a swing at him. "N-not at all, you misunderstand! You are very big unt, uh, masculine. Yes. Very masculine. I meant no offense."

Dempsey relaxed at the ego stroking, easily distracted by praise. "Yeah, that's right. Tank Dempsey's as manly as they come! Heh, I could probably benchpress more than you and the Jap could combined."

Masaki, busy wiping the blood specks from his katana, scowled up at the marine. "Takeo is as strong as a mountain, and as swift as the very wind. Lazy gaijins best not forget that."

"Relax, Tak, I'm just messing with ya. I know you're a tough son of a bitch. Maybe not as tough as me, but hey, that's an unrealistic expectation for anybody. Everyone knows you don't fuck with a marine, especially one as good as me."

The imperial looked suitably unimpressed at the gloating. "...Hmph. Marine's are overly dependent on firepower. A true warrior needs only his faithful blade in combat."

Richtofen interjected before this pointless argument could escalate. "Anyways gentlemen. Back to the matter at hand. I need your, ugh, help on an important subject. Now as we all know, the teleporter had mistakenly transported me here. What I have been trying to figure out is how. While I have some theories, so far nothing I have found has given me a concrete answer. What I need to know is if the teleporter has experienced malfunctions before."

"Yeah man, this fuckin' thing is always shitting the bed," Tank knocked on the outer wall of the teleporter for emphasis.

"Indeed," Takeo agreed, "the machine has malfunctioned before. It was how we found ourselves out of time."

Edward brightened at the information, storing it away for a later date in his head. "Ah, excellent. That is useful data. I can safely assume the teleporter is unstable then. Perhaps Group 935 ran out of time or the resources to finish it?"

Dempsey winced, the mention of the research group bothering him." Group 935 huh? Seems wherever we go, this 'Group 935' crops up. Shi No Numa, Der Riese... Why does it all sound so familiar?"

"It does sound familiar," Takeo added, looking similarly out of sorts.

"It is an experimental scientific research group that I am a part of," Richtofen continued, not noticing his teammates' sudden mood swings. "The group exists in my dimension as well. Headed by Ludvig Maxis, we tested high tech weaponry using the newly found element 115."

Dempsey nodded, still dazed. "Yeah, element 115, that alien element that can be concentrated to power super weapo- wait how the hell do I know this?"

Richtofen narrowed his eyes, finally noticing the odd behaviour. "Dempsey do you remember where you were when this all started? The apocalypse?"

The marine frowned. "I, uh, i'm not sure. Never thought too hard on it for some reason. I remember some kinda cell I was in and German writing. Tak and Nikolai were there as well, I think? Ugh my head's starting to hurt..." Tank wiped his surprisingly sweaty forehead.

"And you Takeo? This is of utmost importance."

Takeo jolted, clumsily making his way to his feet. The usually calm warrior looked unnerved. 

"Der Riese, American. We were at Der Riese."


End file.
